Part 17 (1/2)
”Fool!” said Thorston as he s.n.a.t.c.hed the largest, put it into his mouth, and swallowed it whole. For a moment he just sat there. Then he looked at Sybil. ”Give me the last one.”
”But, Master ...”
”Give it. I don't trust you.”
Sybil, knowing its importance, hesitated.
”Now!” shouted Thorston.
Sybil, flinching, held out her open palm where the remaining stone rested.
Thorston s.n.a.t.c.hed it up and put it in his hip purse.
”Do not bother to bury me again. I shall return shortly. Safety is in reach.”
Sybil and Odo waited in silence. After a few moments, Thorston yawned, lay back on his bed, clasped his hands over his chest, and closed his eyes. Gradually, his breathing ceased.
”Odo,” said Sybil, ”examine him.”
The raven hopped onto the bed and scrutinized Thorston's face. ”He's dead-again.”
20.
When Bashcroft looked at the gold Thorston had just given him, he was dazzled. All he could think was that he wanted more. But he understood he needed help to get it. What could it matter if the soldiers got some? As long as he got most ... .
”Look here,” Bashcroft called, with great excitement to the soldiers who had gathered around. ”True gold.” By the light of the reeve's lantern the coins glowed brightly.
”There's much more,” said the reeve, ”in the house. Enough to make us all rich. On the morrow, as soon as the cathedral bells ring for Terce, we shall lay siege to the building, enter, and take the gold. I herewith promise each one of you shall have at least one gold coin for your efforts.
”Remain on guard through the night so no one may escape from the house. By this time tomorrow,” he said, ”they shall all be hanged and we shall be wealthy men.”
The cheering soldiers took up their positions around the house.
21.
A trembling Sybil covered the newly dead Thorston with a blanket.
”I'm afraid I agree with Master,” said a weary Odo from atop the books. ”We need not bury him again. With Damian gone, I'm not sure we even could manage it. Anyway, I fear Master will be back all too soon.”
”G.o.d protect us,” said Sybil. She turned and held her hand out to Odo. The coin, the one with Damian's image, rested in her palm. ”The boy was false in life,” she whispered. ”He's false in death. Is that how the book's magic works? That his desire for gold truly consumed him? How could Master have done such a thing?”
”I suspect,” said Odo, ”those stones he swallows not only make him younger, but more powerful each time.”
”Crueler, too,” said Sybil. ”And, Odo, according to the monk, when he takes this last one-Time-we shall have no more time: we'll die.”
Odo fluttered to the window and peered out.
”Odo,” said Sybil, ”we need to bring the book and stone to the monk-now.”
”It's too late,” said Odo. ”Look.”
Sybil joined him at the window.
”There, you see,” said Odo. ”Bashcroft is showing the soldiers the gold. If I know anything about humans, that will make them hungry for more. Step out the door, and Bashcroft and the soldiers will only hang us.”
”But if we stay,” said Sybil, ”we won't be any better off in Master's hands.”
”I suppose one of us could swallow the stone,” said Odo. ”That might help.”
”Odo,” said Sybil, ”whatever good might come of it, it's clear something bad will come too-perhaps worse.”
Alfric emerged from the back room. ”Please, mistress, is it safe?”
”For a while,” Sybil replied. ”Master is dead again.”
”But-he'll return, won't he?”
”We think so,” said Odo.
”What will he do then?” said the boy.
”We don't know,” said Sybil. ”Best return to the back room. I'll come comfort you.”
The boy started off, then stopped and turned. ”Mistress, what shall become of us?”
”I don't know that either,” admitted Sybil.
CHAPTER FIVE.
1.
AS THE cathedral bells tolled midnight, the upper room was aglow with moonlight. Alfric lay asleep in the back room. Odo was crouched on the windowsill, bright eyes fixed on the gallows and the soldiers, who were either sleeping or standing on guard. cathedral bells tolled midnight, the upper room was aglow with moonlight. Alfric lay asleep in the back room. Odo was crouched on the windowsill, bright eyes fixed on the gallows and the soldiers, who were either sleeping or standing on guard.
Sybil sat by herself in a corner of the room, eyes fixed on the bed where Thorston continued to lay dead. On the floor by her side lay the Damian coin-as she had come to think of it. Now and again she glanced at it: the image of the boy seemed to be glaring up at her-complaining about his plight.
”Perhaps,” said the raven, ”we could use some of those coins Master made to pay ransom for our freedom.”